


Plain Jane

by IWriteSinsNotStraightLines



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWriteSinsNotStraightLines/pseuds/IWriteSinsNotStraightLines
Summary: Their apartment wasn’t far from the campus Stiles and Lydia attended, which also wasn’t far from Beacon Hills. She knew that, originally, they’d both been planning to go far away for college, leaving California behind for schools on the east coast.Obviously, they hadn’t done that, both choosing to attend Berkeley instead. She didn’t really know why, but she suspected it had to do with not wanting to be apart from each other, or from her.She couldn’t find it in herself to be guilty about it, not when they were happy and she got to sleep with her two favorite people in her bed.
Relationships: Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate
Kudos: 4





	Plain Jane

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everybody! I hope everyone is doing good. 
> 
> Basically, I was having a Stydia/Stalia/Malydia day, and didn't want to choose which one to write about. So, this happened. I got a lot of positive feedback on my last TW poly ship fic, so I felt good about posting this one too. I hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> The title is from "Plain Jane" by ASAP Ferg, featuring Nicki Minaj.

“Stop moving, I’m almost done.” 

Malia made a face, trying to stay still as Lydia carefully dragged the brush down her nail, painting a line of shiny blue polish. She dipped it back into the jar before coming back to repeat the motion, gradually spreading the stuff into one perfect layer over her nail. 

She had no clue how Lydia made it look so easy-- anytime she tried, she ended up painting more of her fingertip than her actual nail. 

When she said as much, she just gave her a soft smile, and gently squeezed her hand, “It takes practice, Malia. I’m sure you’ll get better at it the more you do it.” 

Malia wrinkled her nose, “Like math? Because I hate math.” 

“Kind of, but this is more fun than math.” 

She tilted her head to side, considering, before nodding her agreement. Lydia eyed her nails critically, before releasing her hand, seemingly satisfied. She flexed her fingers, enamored with the deep blue of the paint. 

“I like it,” she announced. 

“Good,” Lydia said, snagging her phone from the bedside table beside them and checking the time. “Are you ready to go? He’s almost done with his class.” 

Malia- mindful of her drying nails- slid her shoes on, and grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. Lydia threw her hair up into a haphazard bun- which was really unfair in Malia’s opinion, because she always looked so _pretty_ with her hair up, even though it took her all of thirty seconds to do it- and they were out the door, locking it up behind them. 

Their apartment wasn’t far from the campus Stiles and Lydia attended, which also wasn’t far from Beacon Hills. She knew that, originally, they’d both been planning to go far away for college, leaving California behind for schools on the east coast. 

Obviously, they hadn’t done that, both choosing to attend Berkeley instead. She didn’t really know why, but she suspected it had to do with not wanting to be apart from each other, or from her. 

She couldn’t find it in herself to be guilty about it, not when they were happy and she got to sleep with her two favorite people in her bed. 

Malia- who hadn’t had the best experience with schooling in Beacon Hills- had opted out of college, choosing to work instead. Peter- she’d slowly been getting closer to him the more time she spent with him, something encouraged by both her girlfriend and boyfriend- and Derek had set her up with what was left of a Hale Environmental Protection Foundation, which had been abandoned since the fire. They’d both helped her get it back up and running, but she was still in charge. 

She liked it more than she originally thought she would, even though she had to deal with a lot of different people, and spent most of her time making decisions and plans for the future of the program. It- being something that was _hers_ \- was worth the effort, and the learning curve. She got to be outside, and help the parts of earth that were still wild, which had been her home for so long. 

Cora- who she liked, even if she’d never met her outside of texting and Skype calls- was also a big part of it, as something of a partner. They collaborated with most of the major choices and projects, and even got an advisor- who Derek knew, and had sent their way- to help. 

It was a lot, and definitely outside of what had been her comfort zone, but she loved it. 

Lydia and Stiles, who were majoring in something super complicated and mathematical and criminal justice and philosophy respectively, had been her biggest supporters, aiding her when she needed it, and leaving her be when she didn’t. 

Lydia caught her hand on a back-swing as they walked, lacing their fingers together easily. Malia smiled at her, mindfully squeezing her hand- humans were so _fragile_ \- and basking in the warmth of the sun. 

“You think he’s going to want pizza?” she asked her. 

Lydia shrugged, “I don’t know, probably. But I want Chinese, so he can deal.” 

Malia snorted, “I refuse to be the tie-breaker again. You guys can figure it out yourselves.”

“That’s fair.” 

The weather was perfect, moderate and sweet, and Malia wondered if she could get away with shifting later, just to feel the sunshine on her fur. She probably could-- even being in the city, wilderness wasn’t out of reach, and now that she could drive, she could always get there herself.

Derek had actually been the one to teach her, talking her through the motions with a patience she hadn’t known he possessed. He’d been gentle and kind, even with her fear and trauma surrounding it at first, and she’d eventually gotten the hang of it, earning several big, proud, bunny-toothed smiles. 

Peter had pouted when she hadn’t chosen him to show her, but was quickly made happy when he saw that she’d learned at all. 

They waited outside the building which housed the lecture hall for Stiles’ class, sitting in a pleasant quiet as groups of students milled around them, some walking leisurely back to the dorms after finished classes, others frantically making their way towards ones which hadn’t yet started. 

“Do you ever regret it?” she asked suddenly. 

Lydia raised an eyebrow at her, “Regret what?” 

“Not leaving for school.” 

She narrowed her eyes, probably confused and suspicious of why Malia was asking, but answered anyways, “No, I don’t. The program is just fine here, and we’re far enough from Beacon to not nearly die every week. I get to wake up with you and Stiles everyday. I get to paint your nails, I get to make sure he doesn’t kill himself over his degree. There’s nothing to regret.” 

Malia nodded, satisfied, and wrapped an arm around Lydia’s waist, laying her head on top of her head. Lydia hooked a finger in her belt loop, tugging herself further into Malia’s side. 

“Do you regret not going somewhere else? Traveling like you thought you would?” Lydia asked after a few beats of silence. 

“No,” Malia said simply. “I like it here.” 

Lydia hummed her agreement. 

Stiles stumbled out of the doors, sharp eyes scanning the area until he found them, face immediately lighting up. 

He came down the stairs quickly, nearly tripping on the last step in an attempt to get to them faster. 

“My girls,” he said, grinning widely. 

Lydia rolled her eyes at his clumsiness, but smiled back anyways, accepting his hug and quick kiss. He released her to embrace Malia, letting her tuck her face into his neck to inhale his scent before meeting her lips too. 

“Pizza?” he asked. 

“Chinese,” Lydia said. 

He paused, apparently deciding if he wanted to argue that or not, but shrugged, “Okay. But I vote for ordering in.” 

They left, walking back towards the apartment with joined hands. She listened to Stiles ramble on about his class, giving feedback on the important parts. 

It took him failing three times for Malia to steal his key and unlock the door for him, the three spilling into their apartment. Lydia ordered the food once they’d gotten in, talking to the restaurant on the phone as she locked the door behind them. 

Stiles dropped his backpack on the table and flopped onto the couch, throwing his arm over his eyes. He peered out at them from under it, and Malia ruffled his hair, blue nails flashing in the light from the window. 

He took her hand, studying the paint, “Lydia painted your nails?” 

“Yeah, did it this morning.” 

He kissed her fingers, “They look good. I like the color.” 

She smiled, tapping his own nails, which were covered in chipped, black polish, “We’ll need to redo yours soon.” 

He wiggled his fingers at her, “Maybe this weekend, if we have time.” 

Malia could hear Lydia end the call as she came back into the room, patting Stiles’ legs. 

He obligingly sat up so they could all rest on the couch. Stiles tapped away at something on his phone, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he mouthed whatever he was reading to himself. His scent was all wrong-- sour with stress and impending anxiety. 

Malia reached up to smooth the line out, fingertips light against his skin, “What’s wrong?” 

Lydia looked up from the magazine she’d grabbed from the coffee table when they’d sat down, eyes tracing over his face and posture. 

“Nothing, just worried about my grades and stuff. Normal anxiety.” 

“Are you having trouble?” Lydia questioned, her voice pensive. 

“Not really, but you know how my brain is.” 

Malia growled internally-- she _did_ know how his brain was. She squeezed his hand comfortingly, standing and forcing him to switch her spots so he sat between them, and both she and Lydia could dole out gentle touch and reassurance. 

She fished the remote out of the couch and put some cooking show she knew Lydia liked on the TV while they waited for their food to arrive, nuzzling at Stiles’ shoulder. 

He abandoned his phone and wrapped both his arms around them to hold them all close, his head falling back against the couch as he closed his eyes. 

  
Malia couldn’t possibly regret staying when _this_ is what she stayed for.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed that. As always, feedback- comments, kudos, the like- are always appreciated. I love hearing what you all think :) 
> 
> Until next time,  
> -Sins 
> 
> Find my Tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/iwritesinsnotstraightlines


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